


One of Those Days

by Leela



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Biting, M/M, Vampire!Adam, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam's having one of those days. Running into Brian — literally — before a Zodiac Show doesn't help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Those Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArianneMaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianneMaya/gifts).



> **Betas** : @MyPrivateAffair, @aislinntlc
> 
>  **A/N** : Written as a belated birthday gift for @ArianneMaya. This isn't quite in the universe she wanted, but it is vampire!Adam so I hope that makes up for it all.

The sun is still too damn high in the sky for comfort when Adam jumps out of a taxi that stops too far away. He's muttering curses upon every single person who delayed him as he races for the backstage door of the Music Box, desperate enough to get out of the sun and into the shade that he sideswipes someone on his way in. 

Half-blinded by the sudden change from bright light to dimness, Adam calls out "Shit. Sorry." And then, after he slams the door shut and collapses back against its protection, asks, "You okay?"

A groaned, "fuck" and a movement in the shadows push Adam back to his feet. He blinks, clearing his sight, and sees the new keyboard player, whose name he cannot remember, using the wall to lever himself up from the floor. Stifling a sigh, Adam reaches out and helps the guy to his feet. 

"Lambert?" The guy shakes his head, then groans. "Need to get a better grip on your own strength, man."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you."

"No shit." 

The guy pulls himself away from Adam and straightens up. The scent of blood, a few drops at most, curls into the air between them, and Adam has to step back, put distance between them, as his fangs drop and he's forcibly reminded that he hasn't fed in far too long.

"Adam! Could you be any later?" Scarlett slides between them, placing a hand on Adam's arm. "Your new Skingraft arrived, and Alan wants you to wear it." At Adam's raised eyebrow, she says, "Yes, tonight. And that means fitting, because you've lost weight again, and I really need you backstage right now."

"I was just..."

"Don't mind me," the guy mutters. "I'll just be over here, nursing my bruised ass."

Scarlett glances at the guy who's leaning against the wall, examining his hand. "Seriously, Adam? Right before a show? I thought you had more restraint than that."

The lingering scent of blood, her insinuation, and Adam's entire clusterfuck of a day all slam into him with that, and he snaps out, "I said I was sorry. What else do you want from me?"

"Fuck you, too, asshole."

Scarlett's eyes widen, and she all but gapes at them. "Okay then," she says, "time we got this show on the road." She slides her arm through Adam's and forces him to either walk with her or hurt her, and he's so damn done hurting people unintentionally today. 

Costume and makeup turn into another clusterfuck. Gia pricks Adam with more than one pin while she's putting the finishing touches on his new costume. At the same time, he's forced to stay still so David doesn't poke him in the eye with a mascara wand. He bites down on his lip to hold in the temper tantrum that's building deep inside him, and the coppery taste of blood fills his mouth.

By the time Adam's got his fangs back under control, Charlie's poking his head around the door. "Five minutes!" 

Fuck, he's an idiot. Five minutes is all it would've taken to swing past some place that would serve Adam something he could eat. Instead, he spent the day running from audition to audition, getting into a car accident and a fight with his landlord, and not feeding at all. 

"Don't move." Gia slaps Adam's ass in emphasis. 

"But I've got to..."

"No, you don't. What you have to do is stay still so I can finish this and make sure that your pants stay up at least through the first song."

"Oh, I don't know," David says. "Some of us would appreciate that show even more."

"Bitch." Adam sticks out his tongue, and David frowns at him.

"Stop moving," David says, catching Adam's jaw with one hand and tilting it. "Or your pants won't be the only thing you have to worry about."

They finish just as Charlie flings the door open to say, "Now, Lambert. Or I'll send Ty on in your place."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Adam slides a hand down his thighs and rolls his hips suggestively. "Because Ty couldn't fit in these pants if he tried, honey."

Charlie shakes his head and sweeps Adam a bow. 

With a dramatic flourish that he learned at Raja's knee, Adam sails out of the room. He doesn't stop until he's through the wings and stepping out onto the stage and into the music.

*

Afterwards, most of them pile into cars and head for Lee and Scarlett's place. Adam is still flying on the music and the feedback loop from the audience, totally not ready to be alone. So he lets Carmit talk him into going along in exchange for the promise of a ride home.

He's sitting on the floor, head leaning against her leg, half-listening to a conversation about upcoming auditions for Wicked, when he realizes that he fucked up. The music drops out from under him without warning. The pulse of Carmit's blood next to his ear replaces the buzzing of music through his veins and overwhelms the thump of the bass coming out of the speakers.

Acting on instinct, he turns his head, presses his nose just above her knee, and breathes in her scent. Hunger roars through him, deafening him, leaving him blind to anything but the white of her skin and the red-blue of her veins. His fangs slam down so hard his jaw aches, and he shoves himself away before he does something he'll regret later.

"Adam?" There's nothing but concern in Carmit's voice, which doesn't help at all. It just makes him feel like he has to get out of there.

"I'm okay," he mumbles, because he can't explain here. Not when most of the people in the room don't know what he is. "Just need some air." 

Before she can say anything else, he pushes himself up and heads for the French doors and the safety of the backyard. Carefully, because the last thing he wants is to stand on anyone, and the rain means that Scarlett and Lee's living room is more crowded than it usually is after a show.

Outside, he leans back against the wall. Hunger rumbles through him like a living beast. He's far too damn close to the edge to go back inside or let himself be trapped in a car with Carmit. 

"Oh my god," he mutters. "Could I fuck this day up any worse?"

Ready to scream out loud, he walks out into the backyard and stands in the rain. He takes a deep breath. The air is heavy with water, the green of growing things, and the smell of cigar smoke. 

He spins around, just as the guy from earlier says, "Well, at least you didn't knock me down this time."

The sound that bursts from Adam isn't really laughter. It's too cracked and broken for that. The guy doesn't seem to care though. He just grins, teeth gleaming white in the darkness, stubs his cigar out in the closest ashtray, and walks toward Adam. 

"Brian," he says, "in case you were wondering."

"You shouldn't..."

"Yeah, I should. You were right, and I was a bit of an asshole earlier." 

"Me too," Adam says, which is as close to an apology as he can get right now. 

Instead of responding, Brian curls his hand loosely around Adam's wrist. It wouldn't really prevent him from moving away, but Adam stops anyway and waits for Brian to talk. 

Finally, as a thick drop of rain begins to roll down Adam's forehead, Brian says, "You're hungry, and I can help."

Adam steps away. "No."

"You gonna retract those pointy teeth then?"

Fingers tightening around Adam's wrist, Brian steps closer. He turns his head so that his cornrows slide off his neck. In the faint light from inside and the moon above, Adam can't look away from the pulse that's beating slow and steady beneath the dark skin.

"You don't understand," Adam says, forcing the words past his fangs, past the need thrumming through him.

Brian moves back a half step and looks up, directly into Adam's eyes. "My best friend back home's a vamp. Got himself caught up in a mess and got turned when we were seventeen. I understand better than you can imagine."

"I don't do bite-junkies."

"Good, because I ain't never gonna be one. That shit's fun, but music's my addiction. Always has been. Always will be. Ain't nothing in a vamp's bite can come close."

When Adam continues to hesitate, Brian shrugs. "Take it or leave it, but I'm not gonna let you go back in there if you turn me down."

Brian presses close and kisses him. He tastes of sharp whiskey and sour tobacco, and Adam deepens the kiss, savoring the truth that lies in his blood.

"Nothing serious, mind you," Brian says, when Adam pulls back. "Just you and me and some fun, because you've got music inside you that I want to hear some day."

Wrapping his arms around Brian, Adam pushes his leg between Brian's. He's only halfway to hard, but Adam knows how to fix that. He nuzzles into Brian's neck, laps the raindrops off his skin, and licks up over his jugular.

A shiver runs through Brian. He rolls his hips, his head falls back, and he exhales a long, drawn-out, "Fuck."

His saliva turning bittersweet with aphrodisiacs and anesthetic, Adam fits his hand to Brian's throat, holding his head in place. He licks another stripe up Brian's neck and sucks on the pulse point.

Brian's breathing turns harsh and ragged. He slides his hands up Adam's back and hooks them over Adam's shoulders, letting Adam take his weight, and he starts to rut almost mindlessly against Adam's thigh. "Fuck yeah," he whispers.

Putting his free hand under Brian's ass, holding him close, Adam bites.

His teeth slice through the skin and into the thick vein. Blood bursts on his tongue, thick, rich, coppery with emotions, with memories, with music.

And he drinks, drawing Brian higher and higher with every suck, feeling Brian's orgasm build, up and up, until it crashes over Brian and into Adam with a moaning shudder.

When Brian's steady again, Adam takes one last mouthful then he licks Brian's skin, closing the wounds, healing them. 

Brian grins at him. "We're doing that again," he says, and he kisses Adam, seeming not to care about his fangs or the blood in his mouth. 

"But first," Brian adds, "you're gonna get me some place where I can sit until my legs'll hold me up again. And then you're going to find me some food and water, because you're a sweet guy like that."

"Bossy," Adam says, grinning back at him.

"Every single minute of every single day of my life," Brian responds. "Better get used to it, because I think we're going to become friends."

"Making music together." 

"Hell yeah." 

His arm around Brian's waist, listening to Brian talk about the music he wants to create, Adam's smiling as they walk through the rain and over to the bench under the awning. Maybe today isn't so bad after all.


End file.
